


Playlist: Beacon Hills (A Horror Mystery)

by dontleaveportland



Series: Stay Awake [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - High School, Dark, Dark Derek, Dark Derek Hale, F/M, M/M, Porn With Plot, Possessive Derek, Possessive Derek Hale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-24
Updated: 2015-03-26
Packaged: 2018-03-19 09:30:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 14,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3605097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontleaveportland/pseuds/dontleaveportland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the better part of the last six months, Stiles had been working closely with psychologist Dr. Peter Hale, attempting to work through the events of Friday, April 4, 2014 – the night Claudia and John Stilinski were killed. Stiles had actually witnessed his parents deaths, but he had deeply repressed the memories from that night.</p><p>Or that time Stiles made a playlist for moving to Beacon Hills, CA.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1. Eleanor, Low Millions

**Author's Note:**

> Someday I'll write about a stronger Stiles, one that overcomes Dark!Derek. Today is not that day.
> 
> If you enjoy this work, please let me know! You might also like my other works: 'The Appointment', 'Every Other Freckle' (WIP), and 'Sights'.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the better part of the last six months, Stiles had been working closely with psychologist Dr. Peter Hale, attempting to work through the events of Friday, April 4, 2014 – the night Claudia and John Stilinski were killed. Stiles had actually witnessed his parents deaths, but he had deeply repressed the memories from that night.

 

 

 **Sunday, October 5, 2014  
** _4:17PM_

Seventeen year old Stiles Stilinski looked out the small window framing the skyline from within the Boeing 737 airplane.

At 150lbs of just-this-side-of scrawny, standing at 5'10", with a more-pale-than-not complexion, Stiles didn't estimate that he was exactly turning any heads with interest, allowing him even more reason to remain reclusive throughout the plane trip – exactly the way he preferred it.

The ding indicating an announcement was impending sounded. _"Hello folks, this is your captain speaking – we're a little under two hours until we reach our destination, Sacramento, California. Please–"_

Stiles pressed the increase volume button on his earbuds to block the rest of the announcement out.

_You left your smell, you left your taste. But just for you, I'll bite my tongue. And I won't call you baby anymore, won't call you baby like I did before. Won't call you baby anymore._

Stiles's move to California was not something to be celebrated – not something to be cheerfully announced as if it were something people did every day. He was moving to Beacon Hills to be with his only remaining family members – well, recently discovered, twice-removed, kind-of-sort-of-family members.

For the better part of the last six months, Stiles had been working closely with psychologist Dr. Peter Hale, attempting to work through the events of Friday, April 4, 2014 – the night Claudia and John Stilinski were killed. Stiles had actually witnessed his parents deaths, but he had deeply repressed the memories from that night.

Dr. Hale informed Stiles that this was a survival technique, and that he had known many patients to suppress any number of horrific events forced upon them. Some remembered in pieces, others held onto one large piece either before, during, or after the event.

Stiles fell into the later category, only able to remember that the night had been the start of his seventeenth birthday celebration weekend. His parents had rented out a complex for Stiles and his friends, and it had been a great night. Stiles imagined that he would never feel that loved again.

It was the next day, Saturday, that he woke up in an empty hospital room. Later he was told that his parents had collied with another car – it was dark, the streets were wet with rain, and an unidentified driver had ran a red light. Unfortunately, Stiles couldn't confirm any of those details, he couldn't remember anything between the party and waking up in the hospital.

Stiles had quickly been assigned to Dr. Hale for counseling, and the psychologist had even taken him in briefly following the end of summer. It was also Dr. Hale that had discovered Stiles's semi-relatives that were willing to take him in while he completed his last year of high school. Stiles had been uncertain at first about moving across the U.S. to California, but he realized his options were limited.

Dr. Hale apparently had relations of his own in Beacon Hills, and he had offered to temporarily move with Stiles to the small town. Even though he was begrudged to admit to it, Stiles owed the psychologist a lot for his efforts to ensure Stiles's future.

A hand fell upon Stiles's right shoulder and gave a shake. Pulling an earbud out, Stiles looked right and into the waiting face of Dr. Hale.

"How are you doing? Nervous?" Dr. Hale asked.

"Something like that," Stiles said as he stood up, "I'm going to go get a water. Want anything?"

"I'm fine, but thank you," Dr. Hale said.

"Suit yourself," Stiles said.

Stiles walked toward the back of the plane, seeking out a flight attendant. But when he reached the flight-attendant-holding-area, Stiles found no one in sight. Stiles looked toward the front of the plane, hoping to find an attendant walking his way, but again found no one.

"They're in the bathroom," a female voice said from his right.

Stiles turned to see a young blonde seated alone. She wore a mean smirk and an assessing gaze.

"Probably making out. Do you think the flight attendant manual has a section referencing the Mile High Club?" the blonde asked.

"Uh...," Stiles said.

"Erica Reyes," the blonde said, extending a hand forward to shake.

"Uh... Stiles Stilinski," Stiles said, taking the offered hand.

Erica gave a snort at Stiles's alliterative name. Stiles narrowed his eyes.

"Yeah, well," Stiles said, "Nice _leather_."

Erica looked down at her black leather miniskirt paired with a matching leather jacket and thigh high leather boots.

"Play nice," Erica said, as she offered another smirk up to Stiles, "Or I won't let you see what's _underneath_ the leather."

"I'm gay, so..." Stiles said, shrugging.

Erica narrowed her eyes.

"Stiles _Stilinski_ ," Erica repeated, "I've heard about you. You're headed to Beacon Hills, right?"

Stiles narrowed his eyes again.

"How do you know that?" Stiles asked.

"Small town," Erica said, shrugging her shoulders, "I live there, too. You're that kid that was locked up in a crazy cell after watching his parents die, right?"

The anger was immediate. Stiles clenched his jaw while tears sprung to his eyes.

"Horrible meeting you," Stiles said, turning to return to his seat next to Dr. Hale.

"I'll send a flight attendant your way!" Erica yelled, "Don't worry, I'll make sure they've washed their hands!"

Stiles sank back into his seat, replacing the earbud and looking back out the window into the clouds.

***

Dr. Peter Hale watched as his patient, Stiles Stilinski, walked toward the back of the plane in search of a water bottle.

Dr. Hale pulled a mobile phone from his jacket pocket, looking for recent messages.

The phone had one unread text message:

> _From "DH" at 16:02: Status._

Dr. Hale tapped the screen to respond:

> _To "DH" at 16:25: Delivery in transit. ETA 20:30._

Dr. Hale returned the mobile phone to his jacket pocket, looking back to observe his patient in conversation with a blonde passenger.


	2. 2. Ice Wine, Lia Ices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As he entered the house, Stiles looked up to see a two words engraved into the brick above the doors themselves: Hale Manor.

 

 

 **Sunday, October 5, 2014  
** _8:12PM_

Stiles Stilinski looked out the back passenger window of the taxi cab transporting him from the airport, taking in all that Beacon Hills had to offer.

"It looks just as I remember it. Nothing has changed," Dr. Hale said.

 _"Great,"_ Stiles thought.

The town was definitely small, with a max population of about 2,000. It didn't take long for the taxi to trek across most of what the town had to offer – one movie theater, two grocery stores, a couple of gas stations, and several churches. All in varying degrees of deterioration.

"I've set up a tour for us at the high school tomorrow morning. I am told that your aunt's son is about your age, maybe he could join us?" Dr. Hale asked.

"Sure," Stiles said.

The town buildings began to fade away from the window, concrete replaced with yellowing grass fields and a large forest area moving closer.

"Exactly how far outside the town does my _aunt_ live?" Stiles asked.

"Well, based on the address, just within the preserve," Dr. Hale said, "We'll be there shortly."

Stiles nodded and watched as the forest grew more dense.

Sometimes, when it was dark like this, Stiles believed he could slip back into the memory of being in the car that night. He could remember his mother looking back at him from the front passenger seat, a smile lighting up her face. The sound of his father's laughter filling the space of the car. Then something large next to the car, something large and... dark. But not another car.

When Stiles first shared these memories with Dr. Hale, Dr. Hale had been quick to reassure Stiles that patients came up with _false memories_ all the time. It made sense to Stiles that not every memory could be trusted, he was seventeen and grieving the loss of his only family. What did he know about repairing the mind after witnessing something so devastating?

Stiles was pulled out of his trance staring out the window by a movement behind the front tree-line. Or at least he had thought that he had seen something moving behind the trees. Something fast and large.

"Is there a large bear population around here?" Stiles asked Dr. Hale.

Dr. Hale chuckled.

"Nothing so dramatic, Stiles. A fawn or two maybe," Dr. Hale said.

 _"False memories,"_ Stiles thought.

"Ahh, we're here," Dr. Hale said.

The taxi turned left off the forest-lined road, passing through a large iron gate and headed for the even larger two-story mansion beyond.

"I thought you said _small_ town, Dr. Hale," Stiles said.

"Your aunt may be an interior decorator," Dr. Hale said, "But I don't think even she could afford this as her permanent residence. I believe she's only living here while she updates the house for sale, which I've been told will take the remainder of the school year. Welcome to your new home, Stiles."

Stiles took in the house – a weathered rustic red brick exterior with graying roof shingles, at least twenty windows extended across the main stretch of the house front, a four-car garage attached on the left, and two giant glass beveled entrance doors. The house easily took up at least 20,000 square feet, not including the surrounding grounds and the lake peeking out from behind the house.

"Are you counting four chimneys? Because I'm counting four chimneys," Stiles asked.

Dr. Hale smirked.

"What do you think that roof structure is behind the house?" Stiles asked, indicating forward.

"If I had a to guess... An indoor pool," Dr. Hale said.

"An _indoor pool_?!" Stiles asked.

"For when the lake is chilled," Dr. Hale responded matter-of-factly.

 _"This is insane,"_ Stiles thought.

"After you, Stiles," Dr. Hale said, motioning forward toward the glass beveled doors.

 _"Here we go,"_ Stiles thought, taking a deep breath in.

Stiles approached the glass beveled doors and took in the intricate design that showcased two wolves, one for each door, looking forward as if to greet whoever stood in front of them. Stiles felt goosebumps raise along his arms and the back of his neck.

Stiles raised his hand to knock on one of the glass doors.

"Ahem," Dr. Hale interrupted, pointing at the doorbell to Stiles's left.

"Right," Stiles said, pressing the button.

A few moments later, a shadow came racing behind the glass beveled doors, throwing them open.

"You must be Stiles!" a female voice yelled excitedely, "Come in, come in!"

As he entered the house, Stiles looked up to see two words engraved into the brick above the doors themselves: Hale Manor.

***

 **Sunday, October 5, 2014  
** _8:35PM_

Stiles's _aunt_ – a distant, twice removed something or other – turned out to be a kind looking brunette woman named Melissa McCall, who was in her early forties and loved to laugh. Six months ago, Stiles would have found her smile infectious.

Dr. Hale was correct that Mrs. Call-Me-Melissa McCall also had a son, Scott, the same age as Stiles. Scott had a dark complexion, fluffy dark hair, and a crooked jaw. He also had some serious muscle for a recently turned seventeen year old, and he talked non-stop about two interests: his girlfriend Kira and lacrosse.

Melissa seemed happy enough to take him in, and Dr. Hale seemed more than confident in the arrangement, so Stiles said nothing about the complete lack of family resemblance.

 _"Are distant, twice removed family members even supposed to look like you?"_ Stiles wondered.

"Scott, honey," Melissa said, "Why don't you show Stiles to his new room?"

"Yeah, okay," Scott said, "Come on, bro. Do you want the room overlooking the east side of the lake, with a shower stall _and_ bath tub, or do you want the room overlooking the west side of the lake, with a shower bath combo?"

Stiles quirked an eyebrow at Scott's expectant look.

"Uh... Does it matter?" Stiles asked.

"Definitely," Scott said seriously, "It determines which staircase we take."

"Uh... How many staircases are there?" Stiles asked.

"Eight," Scott said.

 _"Great,"_ Stiles thought sarcastically.

***

 **Sunday, October 5, 2014  
** _12:23PM_

Stiles lay in the dark unable to sleep, partly due to his unfamiliarity with sleeping in a king size bed. Stiles let a deep sigh out and reached for his earbuds and phone, settling on listening to music until falling asleep.

_I'd hate to leave you while we're still combined – the unready bud ripped from the flower spine. And I'd hate to leave you like the eyelash that flew – never seen again, but as a wish for you._

Stiles set his gaze on the french interior doors encompassing the wall directly in front of his bed. The moonlight pushed reflections of the lake's rippling across the walls.

Stiles had a lot running through his mind – a new high school, Beacon Hills, his anger at the blonde from the airplane, the mansion suddenly his home, the McCalls – but his mind kept returning to his progress with Dr. Hale.

Dr. Hale consistently praised Stiles for his commitment and strength over the last six months, but Stiles still felt like his progress was moving at a glacial speed. And he had no one to blame but himself.

It wasn't necessarily that he thought he would feel better after unlocking his suppressed memories from the night his parents died – he just felt like remembering _something_ would be better than remembering _nothing._ Anything had to be better than the blank space he currently existed in.

The false memories only added to Stiles's frustration – he was grasping to find trust right now, and he couldn't even trust himself. Stiles knew that Dr. Hale was right that these strange bursts of memories from that night completely unrelated to a car crash were completely distorted, but Stiles also couldn't help the excitement he got from them.

A false sense of satisfaction, as if he had suddenly remembered something important. It made him feel like he was actually making progress and connecting the dots, and that was the most devastating part about them.

Stiles did his best to ignore the false memories, frequently choosing not to share them with Dr. Hale, but one false memory in particular remained persistent. And it had come almost every night that Stiles laid down for bed since the accident. Just as he would ebb into sleep, he would remember piercing red eyes fixed on him.


	3. 3. Heaven Knows, the Pretty Reckless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I thought I should intervene on behalf of the health of your locker,” the man said, offering his hand to shake, “I’m Jackson.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little Stackson to distract you.

 

 

 **Monday, October 6, 2014  
** _7:45AM_

Stiles Stilinski stepped out of the passenger side of Dr. Hale’s rental car and looked up at the building that was Beacon Hills’s high school.

Nervous, Stiles ran a hand through the front of his unusually long hair. In the past, he had preferred to keep his hair buzzed short, but Dr. Hale had suggested that growing his hair out might be a good exercise in affirming a new identity for himself. He had said something about increasing confidence and self-image. Stiles wasn’t so sure that he needed a new identity, and he definitely didn’t think that his hair was going to give it to him if he did.

A bell sounded from within the building.

“Better get a move on,” Dr. Hale said.

 _“I can do this,”_ Stiles thought, moving forward to enter the building.

***

 **Monday, October 6, 2014  
** _11:35AM_

After a grueling three hours of introducing himself to his new classes (Chemistry, AP US History, and Language and Composition II), Stiles was ready for the lunch period. Whispers followed him throughout the halls, and Stiles was pretty sure that they were more than the whispers that followed simply _new_ students. These were no doubt the whispers that followed _crazy_ new students.

Stiles’s assumptions were confirmed when he had the misfortune of once again running into Erica Reyes in the hallway near his student locker. Only this time the blonde was surrounded by friends, and they were all staring openly at Stiles and snickering.

 _“Fuck them,”_ Stiles thought as he slammed his locker door closed.

“Whoa there!” a male voice said from his left.

Stiles turned to find a young man with the widest smile ever staring back at him.

“I thought I should intervene on behalf of the health of your locker,” the man said, offering his hand to shake, “I’m Jackson.”

Stiles stared at Jackson’s offered hand.

“Do you not shake hands?” Jackson asked with a quirked eyebrow.

“Are you sure you want to be seen shaking hands with me?” Stiles asked, nodding his head toward Erica’s group.

Jackson narrowed his eyes.

“They’re assholes,” Jackson said, then offered more loudly, “Who gives a fuck about them?”

Stiles watched as Erica’s group visibly bristled. Jackson extended his hand again, and Stiles reached forward to shake cautiously.

Jack seemed to beam back at Stiles.

“You were about to tell me your name,” Jackson said.

“Stiles,” Stiles said.

“Stiles,” Jackson repeated, smile widening even further if possible, “I like it. Very unique.”

Stiles offered a hesitant smile back at Jackson.

“Do you have a lunch partner, Stiles, or would you like to join me and some friends?” Jackson asked.

“Uh… I can sit with you,” Stiles said.

“Awesome,” Jackson said.

Jackson had one of the brightest and widest smiles Stiles had ever seen.

 _“Damn those dimples,”_ Stiles thought, following Jackson to the cafeteria.

***

 **Monday, October 6, 2014  
** _11:40AM_

Stiles quickly learned that he wasn’t the only one mooning after Jackson’s dimpled smile. Jackson appeared to be quite popular, as his lunch table was swarming with friends. Stiles thought he heard someone at the table mention that Jackson was the school’s lacrosse team captain.

Seated between Jackson and a young man named Ethan, Stiles felt something small hit his back. Stiles turned behind himself to see a fry on the ground, and then he watched as another fry flew passed his face, hitting the girl across from him – Lydia, Stiles thought her name was.

“Stiles!” came a whispered shout from none other than Scott McCall.

Jackson nudged Stiles’s shoulder.

“I think your friend is trying to get your attention,” Jackson said.

“Uh…, yeah,” Stiles said, standing to go see what Scott wanted.

“Hurry back,” Jackson said, squeezing Stiles’s hand.

 _“Damn those dimples,”_ Stiles thought again while walking toward Scott.

***

 **Monday, October 6, 2014  
** _11:42AM_

“Hey, Scott, what’s up?” Stiles asked.

“Stiles!” Scott said, voice excited, “Do you know who you’re sitting with?”

“Uh… Jackson?” Stiles asked.

“YES!” Scott said, “ _And_ Aiden and Ethan Carver, Danny Mahealani, Isaac Lahey, Lydia Martin – _the_ popular crowd of our school. How did you land a seat with them?”

Stiles shrugged.

“I beat up my locker,” Stiles said.

“Stiles!” Scott said, “This is no time for jokes. You’re on the verge of being a popular kid in high school, what more could you want?”

 _“My parents back,”_ Stiles thought.

“Hey, do you think you could get them to let Kira and me join you guys?” Scott asked, looking hopeful.

“I’ll see what I can do, Scott,” Stiles said, walking back to Jackson’s table.

“You’re the best, bro!” Scott yelled back.

***

 **Monday, October 6, 2014  
** _3:53PM_

Stiles first day in the new high school was officially done. News about his friendship and lunch with Jackson must have traveled quickly, because his remaining classes (Calculus, Art I and II, AP Literature) following the lunch period went fairly smooth.

The whispers had still been present, but they seemed less noticeably mean spirited or targeted.

“Hey, bro,” Scott said, as he stepped up to Stiles, “How was the first day?”

“It was okay,” Stiles said.

“Just ‘ _okay_ ’?” Scott asked disbelievingly, “Stiles, Jackson Whittemore is your new boyfriend, I think it was more than okay!”

“Jackson is not my boyfriend,” Stiles said.

“Oh, really?” Scott asked, “Then why is he walking over here then?”

Stiles turned back toward the high school building. Sure enough, Jackson was walking toward Stiles with another huge grin plastered on his face.  
However, just as Jackson stepped down from the sidewalk to cross the street over to the parking lot, a black Chevrolet Camaro pulled abruptly in front of him.

“Jesus!” Jackson yelled, as he slammed his hands down onto the roof of the car, “Watch where you’re going _asshole_!”

Stiles watched as the driver’s door was thrown open, and a black booted foot stepped out of the car, followed by another black booted foot. The driver was a man that looked to be in his twenties, with black hair and some serious stubble. The man wore mirrored aviators and a leather jacket that would no doubt make Erica Reyes envious. There was also some serious muscle underneath that leather.

“Whoops,” the man said, pulling the aviators from his face.

“Fuck you, too, Derek,” Jackson said, walking around the Camaro.

The man, Derek, seemed to chuckle as he watched Jackson walk toward Stiles.

Stiles recognized something about the man’s face, it seemed familiar in a _déjà vue_ kind of way.

“Who’s that?” Stiles asked Scott.

“Derek Hale,” Scott said, “And he’s bad news, Stiles. Stay as far away from him as possible.”

“Hale?” Stiles asked, “As in relation to Dr. Hale and Hale Manor, the house we’re staying in?”

“I dunno about Dr. Hale, but yeah, the mansion was named after its original owners, the Hales,” Scott said, shrugging.

“Hey, Stiles,” Jackson said, interrupting Stiles’s conversation with Scott.

“Hey, Jackson,” Stiles said.

“I wasn’t sure if you had a ride home or not, so I thought I’d swing by and offer,” Jackson said, grin firmly back in place.

“Actually, I do have a ride,” Stiles said, gesturing toward Scott, “But I appreciate the offer. That was very kind of you.”

“Okay, well, I’ll see you tomorrow then,” Jackson said, leaning forward to kiss Stiles on the cheek.

Jackson offered one last large smile Stiles’s way before turning around to leave.

“‘ _Scott, Jackson is SO not my boyfriend_ ’” Scott said, imitating Stiles’s voice, followed by obnoxious kissing noises.

Stiles felt goosebumps raise along his arms and the back of his neck, and he felt like someone was watching him.

“Shut up, Scott,” Stiles said, “Let’s just leave already.”

Stiles climbed into the passenger side of Scott’s car, giving one last look back to the high school building before the car pulled out of the lot. Stiles’s really wished he hadn’t, because when he did look back, he saw Derek Hale staring firmly back at him.

Scott appeared to be deep in conversation on his mobile phone, no doubt reviewing the day with his girlfriend, Kira, so Stiles tucked his earbuds in and sought out some music.

_Now you’re on your knees with your head hung low. Big Man tells you where to go. Tell ‘em, ‘It’s good’, tell ‘em, ‘It’s okay’, don’t do a goddamn thing they say. Oh, Lord, heaven knows, we belong way down below._


	4. 4. You're the Best, Wet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Stiles, I understand that the transition to Beacon Hills has been stressful for you, but you cannot give up on your progress here,” Dr. Hale said.

 

 

**Monday, November 10, 2014  
** _5:13PM_

Stiles Stilinski sat silently in the make-shift office of Hale Manor that Melissa had provided Dr. Hale and Stiles for counseling sessions. Earbuds firmly planted.

_All I know is, when you hold me, I still feel lonely. Lonely when you hold me._

“Stiles,” Dr. Hale said.

“Stiles, I understand that the transition to Beacon Hills has been stressful for you, but you cannot give up on your progress here,” Dr. Hale said.

“Stiles, are you upset about Jackson Whittemore? I understand that you two were developing a friendship, maybe something more than friendship?” Dr. Hale asked.

“Are you still friends with Jackson, Stiles?” Dr. Hale asked.

“What about these false memories you have, Stiles? Have those increased since you've moved here?” Dr. Hale asked.

Stiles remained silent and stared forward.

_And maybe it’s a test, I think we’d better quit while we’re ahead._

***

Dr. Peter Hale watched as his patient, Stiles Stilinski, walked silently out of the room. The session had been completely unproductive, Stiles was becoming more closed off the longer he stayed in Beacon Hills.

Dr. Hale pulled his mobile phone from his jacket pocket, selecting messages.

> _To “DH” at 17:56: Patient is progressing well. Almost ready._
> 
> _From “DH” at 17:57: Good._


	5. 5. Eyes on Fire (Zeds Dead Remix), Blue Foundation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On previous runs, Stiles had thought he had seen something following him – a shadow glimpsed when he turned quickly, something running with him. Today, he knew something was following him. Whatever it was, it was large and fast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost halfway there, folks! Dark!Derek is gearing up to make his presence known, and won't that be devastatingly fun?

 

 

 **Friday, November 28, 2014  
** _4:53PM_

Stiles Stilinski took in a deep breath of crisp November air. His lungs burned as his legs pumped him forward through the forest surrounding Hale Manor.

 _“One, two, three, four,”_ Stiles counted his steps in his head, letting a breath out.

 _“One, two, three, four,”_ Stiles counted again as took another breath in.

Stiles was about twenty minutes into what was now his usual run, but today he had decided to push himself further. Faster. Gaining more distance. Moving deeper into the forest than he had ever been before.

_I won’t soothe your pain, I won’t ease your strain. I’ll seek you out, flay you alive. One more word and you won’t survive._

The path was getting darker, and not simply because the day was nearing sunset. The trees were more dense, widening the shadows that fell upon the trail.

Stiles focused on the shadow moving alongside him to the right.

On previous runs, Stiles had thought he had seen something following him – a shadow glimpsed when he turned quickly, something running with him. Today, he knew something was following him. Whatever it was, it was large and fast.

It reminded him of the false memories that haunted his dreams. The memories that told him a large and fast shaddow had hit his parent’s car the night they died, but it hadn’t been another car. It was something terrifying, but that was the missing piece even Stiles’s false memories couldn’t provide him. All he could remember after the car being struck were piercing red eyes, but that didn’t make any sense to him.

Stiles looked right again, hoping for the fifth time throughout the run to reaffirm that a shadow was following him. Stiles saw nothing, and in his haste to look left, tripped over an upraised root in the middle of the path.

“Fuck!” Stiles yelled as he tumbled to the ground.

 _“I am going insane,”_ Stiles thought.

And that was Stiles’s larger issue – the death of his parents had been traumatic, a deep loss that he would always feel, but he was losing his mind along with them, and that was equally if not more terrifying.

It was also part of the reason he had been distancing himself from Jackson Whittemore, despite the young man’s obvious interest in Stiles.

Jackson deserved better than someone that didn’t even know who they were. Someone that didn’t have so much baggage and didn’t have to uproot their counselor’s life in order to move across the country.

Stiles felt a pain of guilt at the thought of Dr. Hale. Stiles had also been distancing himself from the psychologist out of anger. He knew it was petty, but he didn’t understand why the doctor had withheld his history in Beacon Hills.

Dr. Hale and Derek Hale were family, and both Dr. Hale and Stiles were now staying in what was probably Dr. Hale’s childhood home, Hale Manor. Jackson and Scott welcomed Dr. Hale with easy smiles each time they saw him, but both young men had been very clear in their instructions to Stiles that Derek Hale was to be avoided at all costs. Stiles had too many unanswered questions related to the Hale family, and Dr. Hale had provided little if any insight.

Not that he had to per se, but Stiles thought that there was a great deal more trust between them. Evidently not based on Dr. Hale’s evading answers in the past few weeks.

Stiles felt overwhelmingly alone. Swallowed by life – swallowed in the ridiculously large space that was Hale Manor, swallowed by the whispers in the hallway at school, swallowed by the eery dense forest surrounding him.

Dr. Hale used to be his lifeline in matters like this, but Stiles had lost too much trust with the doctor to reach out now. Melissa and Scott were nice enough, but they weren’t invested into Stiles’s future, and it wouldn’t be fair to ask them to be. Jackson could be a lifeline, but Stiles didn’t feel like he deserved him.

So, that left him alone. Gripping to his messed up reality.

Stiles broke down on the path where he fell, too many tears welling up to hold them back. He felt too many emotions to simply erase or ignore them like he did most days.


	6. 6. Faded (Odesza Remix), ZHU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “All right,” Derek said, “I knew about Hale Manor because news travels fast in a small town, especially when it’s in some way – however big or small – related to you. And I knew your name because I asked for it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Passed the halfway mark, folks! Only five more songs to go.

 

 

 **Tuesday, January 13, 2015  
** _5:53PM_

Stiles Stilinski gave a deep sigh as he continued hiking along what he _hoped_ was the main road leading back to Hale Manor.

The afternoon had made for a beautiful run in the forest surrounding Hale Manor, but when Stiles had decided to pursue the shadow that seemed to stalk him during his usual runs, he lost the shadow as well as his own sense of place.

It took him forty minutes just to find the road he was currently following, and the sunset was the only thing helping to guide him in one direction or the other – east or west.

Unfortunately, the sunset was waning quickly, and the afternoon’s light sprinkle of rain was steadly turning into a downpour.

Stiles pulled his thin jacket closer to his body, shrugging into the material.

 _“Dr. Hale is going to be pissed,”_ Stiles thought.

The stalemate that had become their weekly sessions had not progressed much since November, but Stiles had never simply not shown up to a session – even when he really wanted to.

The few attempts Stiles had made to argue with Dr. Hale had been completely infuriating – the doctor had simply praised Stiles for, “showing strong commitment to a sense of identity,” and “standing up for yourself.” Stiles didn’t want praise for standing up for himself, he wanted Dr. Hale to lay off pushing Jackson Whittemore onto him.

Dr. Hale seemed to think Jackson’s offered friendship was just what Stiles needed, but Stiles suspected that Dr. Hale was hoping something more intimate would develop.

And it wasn’t that Jackson’s friendship wasn’t good enough for Stiles – it was just the opposite. Stiles could actually see himself being intimate with Jackson someday, perhaps at a glacial pace. But Jackson didn’t deserve all of Stiles’s baggage, and he certainly deserved to date someone that knew without a doubt that they wanted to date him back.

Jackson didn’t seem to share Stiles’s concerns though, making an effort to text or call Stiles almost every day. Sometimes Stiles returned them, other days he ignored them. Jackson never spoke to Stiles about the latter days, and the patience gleamed from those moments only gave Stiles another characteristic to appreciate about Jackson, leaving Stiles even more confused about whether or not he should date the man.

A glimmer of headlights reflected in the surface of the road pulled Stiles out of his thoughts. Stiles turned around hoping to see someone familiar that could give him a ride back to Hale Manor.

Stiles immediately regretted his wish when he spotted Derek Hale’s black Chevrolet Camaro coming up behind him. The car slowed as it got closer to Stiles, finally stopping next to where he stood. The windows vibrated with the bass of the car’s music, and surprisingly it was a song that Stiles both recognized and liked.

The passenger side window slowly rolled down.

_Baby, I’m wasted. All I wanna do is drive home to you._

Stiles watched as Derek Hale leaned forward, aviators still on despite the overcast weather and mostly set sun.

“Need a lift?” Derek asked.

“Uh…” Stiles said, weighing his options, “If it’s not a problem?”

“No problem at all,” Derek said in tandem with the _click_ sound of the car doors being unlocked.

“Hop in,” Derek said, a beautiful white smile stretched across his face.

Stiles moved quickly to enter the car and buckle the passenger seat’s belt. Stiles did his best to avoid looking at Derek.

Unfortunately, Derek seemed content to sit on the side of the road and watch Stiles settle in, not pulling back onto the road until Stiles offered a glance his way.

“You’re at the old Hale Manor, right?” Derek asked, eyes finally on the road.

“Uh… Yeah, I am,” Stiles said.

“How do you like it?” Derek asked.

Stiles tried to focus on Derek’s words, but it made him nervous each time Derek looked his way, aviators preventing Stiles from knowing where Derek was looking.

Stiles was annoyed to admit that Derek’s own beauty was a little distracting. He was _too_ beautiful, almost supernaturally beautiful.

“Excuse me?” Stiles asked.

Derek chuckled.

“I asked how do you like Hale Manor,” Derek said.

“Oh…” Stiles said, “It’s… Umm… Large?”

“Yeah, it’s a bit showy,” Derek said, nodding his head, “But you have to admit, it’s a hell of a place to live in."

“Yeah, I guess,” Stiles said, shrugging his shoulders.

“You’re not super materialistic are you, Stiles?” Derek asked.

Stiles narrowed his eyes at Derek.

“How do you know so much about me? Like my name, and where I live?” Stiles asked.

“Small town,” Derek said, shrugging.

“Right,” Stiles said, rolling his eyes with a huff.

“All right,” Derek said, “I knew about Hale Manor because news travels fast in a small town, especially when it’s in some way – however big or small – related to you. And I knew your name because I asked for it.”

“You asked for my name?” Stiles asked, stomach turning into knots.

“You intrigue me, Stiles,” Derek said.

Stiles shivered, unsure of the implications of the statement. If Jackson and Scott were to be trusted, nothing good could come from that admission.

“Are you cold?” Derek asked, sliding the car’s heat up.

“Thanks,” Stiles said.

“You’re working with my uncle, Peter, right?” Derek asked.

“So he is related to you!” Stiles said.

“Unfortunately,” Derek said, laughing.

“Sorry,” Stiles said, “I didn’t mean to offend you. Dr. Hale just hasn’t been that forthcoming with his own personal information.”

“Probably for the better,” Derek said, shrugging, “You don’t exactly get to pick your family, and I’m sure I’ve made a few mistakes that would make it difficult for Peter to admit our relation.”

“Why do you say that?” Stiles asked.

“I was young and stupid,” Derek said, “It happens to the best of us. I’m just trying to move on, make amends. But people in this town have big memories and small hearts.”

“I’m sorry,” Stiles said.

“Not your fault,” Derek said, offering another bright smile to Stiles.

“Here we are,” Derek said, pulling onto the road leading up to Hale Manor.

“Thanks for the ride,” Stiles said.

“Thank you for letting me vent a little. I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable,” Derek said.

“No, it was nice,” Stiles said, turning to exit the car.

“Hey, Stiles,” Derek said.

“Yeah?” Stiles asked, turning back toward Derek.

“I hope you know that you’re not alone,” Derek said.

Stiles scrunched his face up into a look of confusion.

“I mean, it’s just that I see you alone a lot, and I’m not sure if that’s by choice or not. I just wanted to say that I know how difficult it can be dealing with the things that life throws your way. You have people that care about you,” Derek said, gaze intense on Stiles.

Stiles didn’t know what to make of the information.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Stiles asked.

Derek quirked an eyebrow at Stiles.

“People tell me everyday how much of an _asshole_ you are, and they go out of their way to tell me to stay away from you, but you’ve done nothing but help me today,” Stiles said.

“Sometimes people are wrong,” Derek said, “Besides, I wanted to let you know that if you ever wanted to vent _back_ to me, I’m available.”

Derek slid a white card across the seat toward Stiles, blank except for “DH” and a phone number written in the center.

“Thanks,” Stiles said, taking the card, “I’ll remember that.”

“Please do,” Derek said.

Stiles exited the Camaro and turned to watch the car make its way off the Hale Manor property.

Just as Stiles was about to head into the house, his mobile phone alerted him to a new text message.

Stiles pulled the mobile phone out of his pocket, selecting new messages.

> From “Jackson” at 18:23: Hey, Stiles! Hope your day was well.

Stiles slipped the mobile phone back into his pocket, and stared down at the white card with Derek’s phone number on it.

_Baby, I’m wasted. All I wanna do is drive home to you._


	7. 7. Honestly, Blue Sky Black Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles shivered from the chill in the night’s air as he settled into the passenger seat. Once Jackson’s door closed, he shivered for an entirely different reason, realizing the two were officially separated from the rest of the outside world, illuminated only by the console lights and moon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER ALERT: Sexual assault scene impending.
> 
> Only four songs left on the playlist! Dark!Derek gets three of them...
> 
> Hope you're enjoying so far!

 

 

 **Wednesday, February 25, 2015  
** _5:17PM_

Stiles Stilinski watched from within Dr. Hale’s makeshift office as a steady rain fell over the window. The air was flooded with electricity.

Only the rolling thunder broke the silence in the office. Dr. Hale stared at Stiles, ever patient, which only infuriated Stiles all the more.

“Scott tells me that there’s a river party this Friday night. I think you should go, it would be good interaction for you,” Dr. Hale said, “Jackson would probably appreciate your presence, too.”

 _“Scott talks too much,”_ Stiles thought.

***

 **Friday, February 27, 2015  
** _6:29PM_

Stiles did end up going to the river party – if only to say a quick hello to Jackson in an effort to thank him for his friendship since arriving in October. He may be angry with Dr. Hale, but the doctor was well-intentioned, and Jackson probably really would be happy to see Stiles at a regular teenage event.

It made Dr. Hale happy too, since Stiles had to ask to borrow the doctor’s rental car to get there. It would be a cold day in Hell when he would drive with Scott to one of these events, the young man would probably stay until the party’s last minute.

Stiles spotted several cars parked alongside the road that followed the river and drove another mile or so down to park alone.

A ten minute walk later found him approaching a large sandy area in the river’s bend, two large bonfires lit the area in a soft glow. Jackson stood near the cooler station by the water, laughing in conversation with Aiden Carver.

Aiden noticed Stiles’s approach first and nudged Jackson’s shoulder.

“You’re here!” Jackson said, large dimpled smile plastered across his face.

Jackson stumbled a little on his way toward Stiles, falling onto Stiles’s shoulder and rubbing his head against Stiles’s cotton shirt.

“Yeah,” Stiles said, “And I think you’re drunk.”

“Not drunk,” Jackson said, nuzzling further into Stiles.

Aiden faked puking into the sand bank.

“He’s just jealous,” Jackson said, “The most beautiful boy at our school came to the party for me.”

“I don’t know about that,” Stiles said.

Jackson raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“You didn’t come here for me?” Jackson asked, mouth set in a firm pout.

“I did, I’m just not ‘the most beautiful boy at our school’,” Stiles said.

Jackson rolled his eyes and huffed, stepping in between the two bonfires.

“Stiles Stilinski is the prettiest boy here!” Jackson yelled to the crowd, “And he’s here for me!”

“Shh!” Stiles said, rushing to pull Jackson back, “Jackson, stop, let’s go find your friends.”

“I don’t care where they are now that you’re here,” Jackson said.

“Okay, big guy,” Stiles said, rubbing circles into Jackson’s back, “Let’s go find them anyways. Maybe Lydia knows how to sober you up.”

***

 **Friday, February 27, 2015  
** _10:42PM_

To his surprise, Stiles had actually stayed at the party for the last four hours. Apparently Jackson had done most of his drinking while pre-gaming for the party, because he started to sober the later it got. It may also have been because Stiles had been subtly replacing the beers in Jackson’s hand with water bottles throughout the night.

Though Stiles had no false assumptions that he belonged here. While it had been somewhat entertaining watching Jackson interact with the rest of their classmates (inevitably pulling Stiles into the conversation and forcing whomever he was conversing with to pay Stiles a compliment), the party was only halfway over and Stiles would have rather been in bed an hour ago.

“You’re hating this aren’t you?” Jackson whispered into Stiles’s left ear.

“No,” Stiles said.

Jackson raised a disbelieving eyebrow at Stiles.

“Okay, well it’s not really _my_ thing, but you’re enjoying it, so I’m enjoying it,” Stiles said.

Jackson beamed back at Stiles.

“Okay,” Jackson said, “You came here for me, so I’ll leave here for you.”

“What?” Stiles asked.

“Let’s get out of here,” Jackson said, wrapping his arms around Stiles’s torso.

Stiles took a moment to reflect on Jackson’s offer. It was true that Jackson was Stiles’s friend, and he had been overwhelmingly sweet to Stiles tonight, doing his best to make Stiles feel comfortable and welcomed by their classmates.

But that was Jackson every day, the man was always sweet to Stiles, and a little part of Stiles thought that was okay. Jackson’s hinting that he would like something more than friendship with Stiles had also become less subtle in the last few months – Stiles wasn’t even sure it could be called hinting anymore, more like anvils. Patient anvils, but anvils nonetheless.

“Okay,” Stiles said, reaching a decision, “Let’s go somewhere, just us.”

“Yeah?!” Jackson asked, clearly excited.

“Yeah,” Stiles said.

“Where do you want to go?” Jackson asked, “My house is out, but we could go back to Hale Manor and just chill.”

Stiles stomach twisted in knots at the idea of Jackson in his room at Hale Manor – really at the idea of the two of them anywhere in a room alone with a bed.

“Umm…” Stiles said, “I’m not really ready to go back home.”

“Okay,” Jackson said, nodding, “Why don’t we go back to my car? Drive around a little.”

“That sounds okay,” Stiles said.

“Great, just let me say goodbye to some people and grab my stuff,” Jackson said, kissing Stiles's cheek before turning around.

***

 **Friday, February 27, 2015**  
_10:58PM_

Hands firmly clasped, Jackson led Stiles to his silver Porsche Carrera parked not that far from where Stiles had actually parked Dr. Hale’s rental. Only Jackson had chosen to park off the road, somewhat hidden from the road in a small clearing of the forest.

Stiles shivered from the chill in the night’s air as he settled into the passenger seat. Once Jackson’s door closed, he shivered for an entirely different reason, realizing the two were officially separated from the rest of the outside world, illuminated only by the console lights and moon.

“Cold?” Jackson asked, “I’ll turn up the heat.”

Stiles offered a shy smile to Jackson in thanks.

“Oh, hey!” Jackson said excitedly, “I’ve got that playlist that you sent me on my phone. You wanna bluetooth it? You listen to some pretty dank stuff.”

“Uh… Sure,” Stiles said, “Uh… But you do know that 'dank' usually refers to something moist or damp, like a basement, right?”

Jackson laughed.

“That’s why I like you, Stiles. You’re really smart,” Jackson said.

_You were so close to the cliff, I didn’t even care to notice. Rain fell over our heads, my throat trembled and said, ‘I cover myself with your eyes.’_

Stiles became overwhelmed with the intimacy of the moment. He ran a hand nervously through the front of his hair.

“So, uh… Where should we drive to?” Stiles asked.

Jackson chuckled and slid closer to the console separating the driver and passenger seat.

“You have no idea how beautiful you are, do you?” Jackson asked.

Stiles felt the warmth of blood rushing to his face.

“God, you are gorgeous just like this,” Jackson said, “Come here.”

Stiles thought for a moment about protesting and asking to drive into town, but this is what Dr. Hale and everyone else wanted him to do – to be a normal teenager.

 _“I can do this,”_ Stiles thought, pushing forward to meet Jackson at the console.

Jackson brushed a hand along the side of Stiles’s face, pulling him in closer until their mouths were almost touching.

“Can I kiss you?” Jackson asked, looking into Stiles’s eyes.

“Ye… Yes,” Stiles stuttered, “Please.”

Jackson took Stiles’s mouth against his own. The kiss wasn’t like anything Stiles expected – he thought it would be lighter and ephemeral, instead this was heavy, lasting until Stiles had to push against Jackson to breathe again.

Jackson tasted like the beer he had been drinking earlier that night.

“That was… nice,” Stiles said.

Jackson grinned back at Stiles.

“Yeah, it was,” Jackson said, moving back in.

Stiles continued to let Jackson kiss him, glancing at the clock every now and then to remain tethered to reality.

Jackson began to move below Stiles’s mouth, giving small kisses as he made his way down to Stiles’s throat.

“You taste so good, baby,” Jackson said in between kisses, “I’ve been thinking about this for so long.”

Stiles had to admit that it felt good, everything that Jackson was doing – his hands, his heat, his lips.

Jackson pulled Stiles’s mouth back into his own again, dragging the kiss out as his left hand grabbed ahold of Stiles’s and brought it below Jackson’s waistline.

“What are you doing?” Stiles asked, pulling his hand back.

Jackson’s mouth moved to Stiles’s right ear, sucking on the lobe.

“Come on, baby, I’ll make you feel good,” Jackson said, “I’ll make you forget about all your problems.”

Stiles leaned his body away from Jackson’s exploring mouth.

“I need some air,” Stiles said, opening the passenger door and stepping out into the February air.

Jackson exited the car as well, making his way around to Stiles with a confused expression.

“I don’t think I’m ready for that, Jackson,” Stiles said.

Jackson’s face appeared to sober, his gaze searching Stiles’s eyes.

“Okay,” Jackson said, raising his hands in resignation, “We’ll go slower. I just want to make you feel good, baby. What I was doing before, did that feel good?”

“Yeah,” Stiles said, shrugging his shoulders, “It felt good.”

“Okay, let’s just go back to that,” Jackson said.

Stiles nodded, moving closer to Jackson again. Jackson entwined their fingers together as he pulled Stiles’s mouth forward against his own.

“I just want you to feel good, baby,” Jackson said before he licked back into Stiles’s mouth.

Jackson pushed Stiles against the car’s structure, backing him up until he felt entirely enclosed between the cool metal of the car and Jackson’s increasing heat.

Jackson made an excessively long lick through Stiles’s mouth as he brought his own hand down below Stiles’s waist, gripping the bulge he found there.

“Jackson,” Stiles said, pulling his head back, “Stop.”

“Baby, it’ll be good, I promise,” Jackson said pushing back into Stiles’s mouth.

Stiles attempted to push against Jackson’s shoulders, but the man remained unbudging.

“Jackson, please stop,” Stiles said again, pulling his head as far back as possible.

Jackson’s hand worked forward to pull the zipper of Stiles’s jeans down. Hand disappearing into Stiles’s boxers. Stiles let out a small gasp as his length was gripped in warmth.

“Jackson, let go of me!” Stiles yelled, hot tears assaulting his eyes.

As Jackson made to pull Stiles’s right hand against Jackson’s own jean-clad length, Stiles was able to work a leg in between Jackson’s.

Stiles brought his knee up with as much force as he could muster while being held down against the car.

“Fuck!” Jackson gasped out, falling to his knees on the ground, “What the hell, Stiles?!”

“I asked you to stop!” Stiles said, cheeks wet with tears.

“Goddamn it, Stiles!” Jackson yelled, “You wanted it, I could feel it!”

“I said no, Jackson,” Stiles said.

“So that’s it?” Jackson asked, “You’re just a cock tease? I’ve been following you around for the last four months for nothing?!”

“I thought we were friends, Jackson,” Stiles whispered.

“Friends,” Jackson repeated with a huff, “Stiles, you’re a _freak_. The only reason I’ve paid you any attention at all is because of that pretty mouth of yours. If you want to save your reputation at school, you can get on your knees right now and make the last five hours up to me.”

Stiles reeled back as if he had been physically slapped.

Jackson picked himself up from the ground and lunged toward Stiles.

Stiles ran, headed for where Dr. Hale’s rental car was parked. Stiles could hear Jackson’s feet thundering through the overgrowth behind him.

Stiles barreled forward onto the main road, falling into the group walking in the middle of road – no doubt looking for their own car. Stiles had never been so happy to see Erica Reyes in his life.

“This isn’t over!” Jackson yelled, “Fuck you, too, frigid bitch!”

_Please don’t you think of me, I’m nothing honestly. Please don’t you think of me, in time this will mean nothing._


	8. 8. The Love You're Given, Jack Garratt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Melissa has offered to throw you an eighteenth birthday party, on your actual birthday, April 8,” Dr. Hale said, paying close attention to Stiles’s face for a reaction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So close, I can see the end!

 

 

 **Sunday, March 22, 2015  
** _7:23PM_

Stiles Stilinski laid on his back in bed, wallowing in the dark shadows of his bedroom at Hale Manor.

_Take all the love you’re given through the gap in the wall. Seal it tight with the light blue ribbon, then unlock the door._

Stiles had been trying for the last several weeks to forget the disaster that was Jackson Whittemore – not that Jackson was making that easy.

The Monday following the river party, Jackson had shown up to school with a deep gash across his face. A small part of Stiles hoped the man received it tripping on his way back to his Porsche after attempting to force himself onto Stiles.

That afternoon began the first of several text messages from Jackson, the first few starting out apologetic (“Baby, I’m so sorry, please forgive me, I was drunk,”), and quickly turned ugly (“I bet you wouldn’t even know what to do with a cock anyways, probably going to die a virgin, what a waste of my time,”).

At least the bruises left behind by the man’s hands were mostly healed. The gash on Jackson’s face seemed to be taking an unusually long amount of time to heal over.

A knock sounded on Stiles’s bedroom door.

“Yeah?” Stiles called out.

“Just checking to see if you’re alive in here,” Scott said, sticking his head into the room, “You haven’t come out all weekend. Or any weekend in a really long time. I thought you were settling in after I saw you at the river party, bro.”

Stiles bristled at the mention of the river party.

“I was stupid to go to that,” Stiles said.

Scott nodded his head and offered a sympathetic look.

“Yeah, I heard Jackson broke up with you that night,” Scott said, “Tough break, bro, but I’m sure you’ll find someone better.”

Stiles fought back the tears stinging his eyes.

“Scott?” Stiles asked, just as Scott appeared to be exiting the room.

“Yeah, bro?” Scott asked.

“Have you ever felt lost?” Stiles asked.

Scott nodded his head seriously.

“Totally,” Scott said, “Just yesterday, I took a wrong turn after the second ballroom downstairs, and I found myself in the basement. Did you know we even had a basement, Stiles?”

“No, I mean lost inside,” Stiles said, indicating his head, “Like up here.”

“Oh…” Scott said, “I think I did once last year, I tried to make an anniversary cake for Kira with rainbow chip frosting, but I couldn’t find any. I tried _both_ grocery stores, bro. I had to find out that they don’t even make rainbow chip frosting anymore by calling the company. It was really sad for me.”

“Okay…” Stiles said, grappling to understand frosting-induced sadness, “How did you move passed it? What made you feel better?”

“Oh, that’s easy!” Scott exclaimed, face glowing, “Kira.”

“So… Would you say Kira helped fix you?” Stiles asked.

“I dunno about fixed me, but my chest felt better, and I was less sad,” Scott said.

“So, you needed someone else to help you move beyond the pain?” Stiles asked.

“Kira always helps me feel better, bro. That’s why people seek love,” Scott said matter-of-factly.

“Your music is seriously depressing, bro,” Scott said.

Stiles threw a pillow on top of his own head, blocking the rest of the world out. He briefly entertained the idea of another shower, hoping to feel clean again.

***

 **Wednesday, March 25, 2015  
** _5:05PM_

Stiles stared at the notepad in front of Dr. Hale. He had been dreading this session in particular, because it was becoming obvious that he had been avoiding the subject of Jackson for the past three weeks. There was absolutely no way that Stiles Stilinski was lucky enough for Dr. Hale to ignore that fact of life.

“So, Stiles,” Dr. Hale began.

Stiles mentally braced himself to hear Dr. Hale utter Jackson Whittemore’s name.

“Melissa has offered to throw you an eighteenth birthday party, on your actual birthday, April 8,” Dr. Hale said, paying close attention to Stiles’s face for a reaction.

On the exterior, Stiles maintained a firm face, but within, Stiles felt like he was rolling in an ocean of ice water. It had almost been one year since the death of his parents, and Dr. Hale was now asking him to celebrate the torture that had become his life since April 4, 2014.

“I think that this would be good for you, Stiles,” Dr. Hale said.

 _“Yeah, you thought the river party would be good for me, too,”_ Stiles thought, huffing.

“Ahh, a reaction, finally,” Dr. Hale said, “Stiles, the very fact that this seems to force an emotion out of you tells me that this party is necessary. You can invite anyone you want, the whole school if you want to.”

Stiles recognized the look of grim determination on Dr. Hale’s face, this party would happen with or without his consent.

“Fine,” Stiles said, “But Scott decides who is and isn’t invited from school.”

At least Scott knew Jackson was not on the guest list, even if he seemed to be deluded about why.

***

 **April 7, 2015  
** _1:23PM_

It was the day before Stiles’s eighteen birthday – and the adjoining birthday party being thrust upon him – and Stiles was a complete head case, even more so than usual.

The previous weekend containing April 4 had been a difficult one in itself, and Stiles had holed himself up in his bedroom, unresponsive to either door knocks or mobile phone messages. Dr. Hale seemed understanding enough, and the doctor had even called the school to request an excused absence for the entire week following.

It was still a difficult week to get through, but at least Stiles didn’t have to suffer through the bullshit that was high school along with crippling emotional damage.

Stiles was especially appreciative of Dr. Hale’s intervention, since Jackson had taken to spreading rumors that Jackson dumped Stiles because he was a bad lay.

The rumors made Stiles’s skin crawl.

A text message alert from his mobile phone forced Stiles out of his thoughts, looking up from the book he had been staring at for the last few hours.

> From “Unknown” at 13:25: Is this Stiles? This is Erica, Jackson gave me ur #. Said ur head was so bad, u had 2 be str8.  
>  From “Unknown” at 13:26: Thought u might like this. <PHOTO ATTACHMENT>

The attached photo was one of Jackson holding hands with Aiden Carver. The pair were smiling at the camera, definitely basking in their new relationship.

Stiles felt his face heat with blood.

Stiles went to turn the mobile device off when another text message alert sounded, this time from Derek Hale.

> From “Derek” at 13:28: Thinking of you.

Stiles took a few minutes to collect himself and breathe deeply.

> To “Derek” at 13:31: I’m coming over. Text me your address.


	9. 9. Is This Real?, Lisahall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles knew that there was probably a better way to describe that look – a better adjective – but that’s how his parents used to look at him. Like he was their whole world.
> 
> “Derek, can I kiss you?” Stiles asked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this happened... I didn't originally set out to do so, but this got a little pornographic... You might want to skip Tuesday starting at 11:13PM, and jump ahead to Wednesday morning at 12:01AM, if that's not something you're comfortable reading.

 

 

 **Tuesday, March 7, 2015  
** _3:43PM_

Stiles Stilinski stood on the front porch of Derek Hale’s cabin that was neatly tucked into the west side of the forest preserve, hands shaking and nervously biting on his lower lip with anticipation.

Stiles had only left Hale Manor around 2:00PM, and the walk to Derek’s cabin had taken a little over an hour. For the last fifteen minutes or so, Stiles had simply been staring at Derek’s front door.

Stiles was so uncertain about this step, doubt clouded his mind. At one point, he had thought Jackson was someone he could place trust in, but that had quickly proven to be one of his larger mistakes.

Dr. Hale had once been someone that Stiles had placed a great deal of trust in, but that changed almost immediately after moving to Beacon Hills. The doctor had told him that family resided in the area, and that that was why Dr. Hale was interested in making the trek across the country with him, but not once had Dr. Hale been forthcoming about his familial relationship with Derek Hale, quite the opposite in fact.

Despite these concerns, Stiles felt the pressure of the world concaving around him more and more every day.

If Dr. Hale truly could be trusted, Stiles had ruined any chance of repairing that relationship by giving the doctor the cold shoulder since November. His only friend at high school had been Jackson, and that was really his own fault as well – he had purposefully avoided contact with most of the other students. Scott was kind to him, but that was likely due to some coercion by Melissa, an effort to lend their crazy orphan relative a helping hand.

And again, Stiles had chosen to isolate himself from Scott as well, maintaining a fairly shallow relationship based mostly on head nods in the hallway. The only time Stiles had reached out to Scott was to inquire how his relationship with Kira helped Scott navigate life. Scott had been adamant that Kira was a vital piece in maintaining Scott’s happiness.

Stiles’s wasn’t sure that was necessarily who he was –  how he found happiness – but he also knew that isolating himself from everyone around him hadn’t helped either. And Derek had been the only one to willingly reach out to him with seemingly unselfish intentions, unlike Jackson. There was also something mysteriously familiar about Derek. His face maybe – or his eyes – seemed to resonate with Stiles for some unknown reason. Almost like Stiles had met Derek before moving to Beacon Hills.

The cabin’s front door opened slowly, revealing Derek behind the protective mesh of the storm door, one eyebrow quirked in curiosity at Stiles.

“I wasn’t sure if you were ever going to knock,” Derek said.

Stiles took a deep breath in.

“I’m sorry… I wasn’t sure if I was going to either,” Stiles said, still gnawing at his lower lip, “Maybe this was a mistake.”

Stiles turned to leave the porch.

“No!” Derek said quickly, “It’s not a mistake, I promise. Is something wrong, Stiles?”

Stiles looked down at his muddy sneakers.

“You know you can trust me,” Derek said, “If there’s something I can do to help, I will gladly do it. _Anything_.”

Stiles looked back up at Derek, searching his face for any sign of insincerity.

“Can we… Are you…” Stiles said, “I’ve got a lot on my mind. I don’t really have anyone else to turn to, and then you texted me…”

“So… You thought maybe you could talk to me?” Derek asked, face scrunched into confusion.

Stiles nodded his head silently.

Derek seemed to beam back at Stiles.

“That is wonderful!” Derek said, “Uh… I mean, that’s – yes, that’s – yeah, we can definitely talk. I’m a great listener.”

Derek stepped to the side of the door and pushed the storm door open.

“Why don’t you come in?” Derek asked.

***

 **Tuesday, March 7, 2015  
** _10:28PM_

Stiles blew his nose obnoxiously into the tissue offered to him by Derek, his eyes stained red and cheeks wet from tears.

Once Stiles had stepped into Derek’s cabin, the two comfortably seated together on Derek’s large sofa, Stiles had completely unloaded. He told Derek _everything_.

Starting with the night his parents had died, and moving on to how he became Dr. Hale’s patient, his counseling sessions at the hospital, his move to Beacon Hills for unknown relatives, his struggle to fit in at the high school, and the terrible mistake that was Jackson Whittemore.

He felt like a weight had been lifted once he was done. Not only had Derek listened, he genuinely seemed to care. He clasped Stiles’s hands tight when it became difficult for Stiles to continue, and he became so angry in the middle of detailing the night of the river party that the man had to step out of the cabin for a few minutes.

Stiles felt cared for again, and in a way that was so much more than what Jackson’s attention had seemed to offer. Stiles’s stomach was constantly in knots around Jackson, but alone with Derek in the cabin, with Derek’s radio playing softly in the background, the room illuminated by the soft orange glow of the fireplace, he felt completely calm.

Derek offered another tissue, and Stiles attempted to dry his cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” Stiles said, “I’m such a mess. This must be really attractive.”

Derek’s face seemed to soften at Stiles’s remark, and he lifted his left hand to caress Stiles’s cheek.

“No apology necessary,” Derek said, gaze intense, “You’re beautiful like this.”

_Twisted this feeling, warped out of shame. So tired of revealing the moves that I make._

Stiles rolled his eyes.

“You’re just saying that, because you’re too nice to tell me what a wreck I am,” Stiles said.

“No, trust me. I was the same way once, I know what it’s like to have your whole life pulled out from underneath you,” Derek said.

“What happened?” Stiles asked, “Not that… I mean, you don’t have to tell me. Just because I’ve blabbed _my_ whole life story to you.”

Derek let loose a deep sigh.

“I lost my parents, too,” Derek said, “A very long time ago, I trusted the wrong person, and it cost me everything I had.”

“How did you move on?” Stiles asked.

Derek chuckled.

“Most of the people in Beacon Hills will tell you I became a menace. I rebelled, and I was loud about it,” Derek said, “But then, when I was eighteen, I found something that put me back on track.”

“What was that?” Stiles asked.

“Purpose,” Derek said, “I found something new to live for – to breathe for. And I’ve spent every day for the last four years reminding myself of that purpose.”

“That sounds… Really ambiguous,” Stiles said, offering a small smile.

Derek chuckled again.

“Yeah, I guess it does. It’s just really personal to me,” Derek said, “I think I can trust you with it – I want to trust you with it, but sometimes I’m so wrapped up in my head that doubt just completely takes over.”

Stiles reached out to clasp his hand with Derek’s.

“I definitely get that,” Stiles said, “I understand if you need some time to open up to me. Trust is important.”

“You’re really amazing, you know that?” Derek asked.

Stiles felt the heat of blood pooling on his face.

“And adorable,” Derek laughed, “Your blush has me completely smitten. I thought I was a goner the first time I saw you, but now I know for sure.”

Stiles offered a shy smile toward Derek, unsure of how to respond to his compliments.

The last time Stiles had been in a situation like this, he had been _pursued_ , but Derek made him feel like he wanted to be the one to _pursue_.

“Derek,” Stiles said, “Can I…”

“Yes?” Derek asked, eyes shining with sincerity and… _Love_.

Stiles knew that there was probably a better way to describe that look – a better adjective – but that’s how his parents used to look at him. Like he was their whole world.

“Derek, can I kiss you?” Stiles asked.

“Yes,” Derek said, leaning forward.

_Twisted this feeling. Flesh. Blood. Bone. Love. Twisted.  
_

***

 **Tuesday, March 7, 2015  
** _11:13PM_

Stiles crashed against Derek’s bedroom door, Derek’s weight pushing him forward. Mouths locked in motion together, tongues continuing the exploration that began almost half an hour ago – mapping the tastes and textures that were each other.

“Stiles, what are we doing?” Derek asked, pulling his head back.

“Moving forward,” Stile said, exploring the way Derek’s throat rose and sank with each breath.

“I know that,” Derek said, “I mean, you’re not eighteen yet. At least not until tomorrow.”

“It’s almost midnight,” Stiles said, unbothered, “Technically, I’m already eighteen on the east coast.”

“I just want it on the record that I think that is flawed logic,” Derek said, breathing heavily, “But I’m okay with it.”

Stiles pushed Derek onto the bed, climbing on top of him.

“I want this off,” Stiles said, pulling at the hem of Derek’s soft cotton shirt.

“Yes, sir,” Derek said, pulling his arms and head through the material.

Stiles took a moment to simply observe Derek in front of him, waiting patiently for Stiles’s next move. Stolen glances at the lacrosse field told Stiles that where Jackson was smooth and lean, Derek was rough and large. He liked the contrast.

Stiles leaned down and licked his way up the dark trail that was Derek’s torso, up his throat, over his chin, and back into his mouth.

“Hey,” Derek said, pulling back, “We don’t have to do anything. You know that right?”

“I know that,” Stiles said, “And I’m not ready for… Everything. But, I think I am ready to do some things, on my terms.”

“Okay,” Derek chuckled, “What are your terms?”

“Well…” Stiles said, “I choose what we do. So long as you’re comfortable doing it of course.”

“That sounds okay,” Derek said, biting lightly at Stiles’s shoulder blade.

“What if we started here?” Stiles asked, pushing a hand down to the zipper of Derek’s pants.

“That’s… I’m okay with that,” Derek said, gaze suddenly intense again.

Stiles shifted down until he was eye level with Derek’s waist. Stiles pulled gently at Derek’s hips until the man lifted himself upward. Stiles pulled the fabric down and then off.

“Jesus,” Stiles whispered, slightly scandalized that Derek wore no underwear beneath his pants.

“Is this okay?” Stiles asked, grabbing ahold of Derek’s length.

“Yes,” Derek whispered back, voice suddenly deep.

Stiles brought his face closer to inspect the full length of Derek.

“What about this?” Stiles asked as he gave an experimental lick at the head.

“Ye… Yeah, yes,” Derek said, voice cracking.

Stiles let the taste of Derek settle in his mouth, trying to align the flavor with the scent. Definitely salty, a little musky, but also almost... _Dark_. Dry and heady at the same time.

Stiles pushed Derek’s foreskin upward and gave another experimental lick inside the orifice.

“Oh, god,” Derek said.

Taking courage from Derek’s apparent approval, Stiles sank down onto Derek.

“Fuck!” Derek yelled, “Jesus, baby, this is going to be embarrassingly short if you keep doing that.”

Stiles pulled up and then sank back down a few times before pulling off with a slurp. Stiles wasn’t sure he liked the feeling of choking, that might be something he would have to become accustomed to over time.

Stiles decided to move lower, giving an experimental lick across Derek’s sack.

“Yeah,” Derek moaned.

Stiles took Derek’s sack into his mouth and swallowed.

“Fuck, baby!” Derek said.

Stiles continued lapping at Derek’s sack, simultaneously reaching his right hand up to wrap around Derek’s length.

After a few tugs, Stiles moved his left hand to slowly swipe up the soft area behind Derek’s sack. That was always a sensitive area for Stiles.

“Fuck, Stiles, I’m coming,” Derek said.

Stiles pushed back just as Derek came. He moved upward to join Derek’s mouth with his.

“Fuck, baby,” Derek said, pulling his head back for air.

“Was that okay?” Stiles asked, mouthing at Derek’s throat again.

“More than okay, I don’t have words for how okay that was,” Derek said.

Derek pushed Stiles away from his throat and down onto the other side of the mattress.

“I would like to repay you the favor, would that be okay?” Derek asked, leaning over him.

Stiles nodded silently, unsure of his voice.

Derek's smile was bright and wide.

“I’ll be so good for you, baby,” Derek said, reaching forward for another kiss.

Stiles thought he might never feel as happy as he was in that moment with Derek ever again. Whether Derek would become a permanent fixture in his life or not, Stiles was just happy to feel something again. Something that wasn’t just pain or shame.

***

 **Wednesday, March 8, 2015  
** _12:01AM_

At the feeling of a mouth biting lightly at his right earlobe, Stiles slowly regained recognition of the rest of the world.

Stiles felt Derek’s muscled arms wrap tightly around his torso from behind him. Eyes still closed, Stiles smiled.

“Stiles, baby,” Derek said, “Come back to me.”

Stiles released a sigh of satisfaction.

“Stiles,” Derek said, voice thick but serious, “Come on.”

Stiles slowly opened his eyes, lids heavy and ready for sleep.

“Stiles,” Derek repeated, “Look at me.”

Stiles turned slowly, seeking out the hazel eyes that – not more than ten minutes ago – had stared up at him from his waist with a deep hunger.

Instead, Stiles blinked into the deep crimson eyes that had been haunting his dreams since last April.

“Happy birthday, baby,” Derek said.

Stiles froze. An intense ringing burned his ears, ice swam through his veins, and nausea ripped through his stomach. He was completely still, except for his throat – which fought against his fear induced paralysis to let loose one loud scream.

He screamed because he knew Derek Hale had killed his parents one year ago.

_Flesh, to blood, to bone, to love. Twisted. Is this real?_


	10. 10. Grown Unknown, Lia Ices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It was the day we first met, Stiles,” Derek said, “You bumped into me at Virginia Beach. You were a gift that literally fell into my lap. You were so embarrassed, and god the way you blushed was beautiful – it still is."
> 
> "And I knew, Stiles,” Derek said, face morphing into something more animalistic, “I could smell it – I could sense it. You were mine, and I was yours. You were that purpose I found nearly four years ago.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So close! Don't hate me for this chapter.

 

 

 **Wednesday, March 8, 2015  
** _12:23AM_

_I can’t live on a solitary stem when there’s open land and warm wind. There’s always more and more to multiply. Love, love, love you, but desire confines._

Stiles Stilinski took a ragged breath in. His feet were bare as he pounded across the overgrowth of the forest preserve, searching for Hale Manor. He had to get to Melissa, to Scott, to Dr. Hale – they would help him.

Stiles could no longer fight the bile in his throat. He leaned against a tree as he heaved into a nearby bush. This was sick and demented – this was a thousand times worse than anything he had experienced with Jackson Whittemore.

Stiles’s heart ached, his lungs burned, and his feet stung from scratches. He wanted to cry, or scream, or both – he was such a fool.

He had slept with the man that had killed his parents.

“You can’t hide from me, Stiles!” Derek yelled nearby, “We belong together. You’re mine now.”

Stiles chose the largest brush he could find to hide beneath.

“I can hear your heartbeat, baby,” Derek said, closer than before, “It makes such a pretty sound.”

Stiles lunged out from the brush, narrowly missing Derek’s attempt to grab ahold of him.

He ran forward into the dark.

***

 **Wednesday, March 8, 2015  
** _12:42AM_

When Stiles finally came upon the main road that wound through the forest, he wanted to sink to his knees in joy. But the battle was only half won.

Stiles spotted two soft orbs moving along the road toward him.

 _“Headlights!”_ Stiles thought.

Stiles stepped out into the middle of the road.

“Hey!” Stiles yelled, waving his arms frantically, “Help me!”

The car narrowly missed hitting him as it swerved right, screeching to a complete stop on the road’s shoulder. Blonde hair tumbled out of the car as the driver’s window rolled down.

“What. The. Actual. Fuck. Stilinski!” Erica Reyes yelled.

If Stiles weren't running for his life, he could almost kiss Erica Reyes for saving him from  _another_ demented lover.

“Please help me,” Stiles cried, quickly crossing over to the car’s passenger side, “Derek Hale is trying to kill me!”

“Well, I might help him, Jesus!” Erica said, “You almost killed both of us with that stunt.”

“Erica,” Stiles said, voice hurried as he settled into the passenger seat, “I am being serious right now! Derek’s not normal – he’s not _human_ , and he’s going to be here soon, so will you hurry the fuck up and get me to Hale Manor?!”

“Stiles, I’m not taking you anywhe–“ Erica said.

“Erica!” Stiles yelled, pointing toward the forest where Derek was barreling toward them, “Fucking move! Do you not see that _thing_ headed for us?!”

Erica turned to look out the window.

“Holy shit!” Erica yelled.

“Go, go, go!” Stiles yelled back.

Erica slammed on the accelerator, and the smell of burned rubber hit Stiles’s nose as a high pitched screeching assaulted his ears.

“You owe me some new fucking tires, Stiles,” Erica said.

***

 **Wednesday, March 8, 2015  
** _1:23AM_

“Dr. Hale!” Stiles shouted as he ran up into the main foyer of Hale Manor, “Melissa! Scott!”

“I think I hear something,” Erica said, “What’s in there?”

Erica pointed toward the sitting room just off the side of the foyer, a soft glow shining beneath the two large doors separating the two areas.

“I don’t know,” Stiles said, “I thought everyone would be upstairs in bed.”

Stiles walked toward the sitting room, Erica following closely behind.

Stiles slid the doors open.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” several voices yelled at once.

Stiles was stunned. Underneath a giant banner that read, “Happy 18th Birthday, Stiles!”, stood Aiden and Ethan Carver, Danny Mahealani, Dr. Hale, Isaac Lahey, Kira Yukimura, Lydia Martin, Melissa, Scott, and Vernon Boyd. Stiles recognized a few other kids from school, he thought their names were Garrett, Liam, and Malia.

“You’re throwing a party without me?” Erica asked, punching Stiles’s shoulder.

“Ugh… Thanks guys,” Stiles said, “I'm not really sure what's going on, but – Dr. Hale! Can I speak with you? Ugh… Privately?”

Dr. Hale handed his drink cup over to Melissa, large smile in place as he walked toward Stiles.

“Stiles,” Dr. Hale said, clapping a hand on Stiles’s shoulder, “I know that this has been a tough year for you, but look at how many people are here for you!”

“Dr. Hale,” Stiles said, “I need to talk to you about Derek.”

“Derek?” Dr. Hale asked.

“Yes, Derek,” Stiles said, “I know that he’s your nephew, Dr. Hale. But he’s more than that – he’s messed up. He’s… He’s a monster.”

Dr. Hale chuckled.

“Stiles, you’ve always had a vivid imagi–“ Dr. Hale said.

“No!” Stiles said, “No, Dr. Hale, you’re not listening to me. I think – no, I know that Derek killed my parents.”

Dr. Hale scoffed.

“Nonsense, Stiles. Why don’t you get some punch, it’s quite good,” Dr. Hale said.

Stiles looked disbelievingly at Dr. Hale. Something told him that he knew less than he originally thought.

“Dr. Hale…” Stiles said.

“Yes, Stiles?” Dr. Hale asked.

“This is a really odd time to have a birthday party,” Stiles said, “How did you even know I would come into the room?”

“Because I told them that you were coming,” Derek Hale said, stepping into the sitting room.

“Ahh! Monster!” Erica shrieked, before bending over in laughter.

The whole room seemed to shake with energy. Everyone was laughing.

Everyone but Stiles.

***

 **Wednesday, March 8, 2015  
** _1:52AM_

“Everyone get back!” Stiles yelled, “Derek Hale really isn’t human! He killed my parents!”

No one moved.

_I need you wild. I need you wild. I need you wild._

“Stiles, baby,” Derek said, moving closer, “Everyone here already knows what I am.”

“What?” Stiles asked, turning to look at the party’s guests – at Dr. Hale, Melissa, and Scott.

Each of their eyes lit up in some variation of gold or blue.

“They’re each a part of my pack, baby – our pack. A werewolf pack,” Derek said.

_I need you wild. Is this what we’re living for, to be known and a little more?_

“Oh, god,” Stiles said, dropping to his knees, tears welling in his eyes.

Stiles couldn’t breathe. He was surrounded by monsters. Monsters like Derek.

“Let’s get you to a seat,” Dr. Hale said, lifting Stiles up with the help of Scott and moving him to a nearby chair.

Derek walked forward.

“Please,” Stiles whispered, tears streaming down his face, begging for this moment not to be real.

Let him be insane, but don’t let this moment be real.

“Baby,” Derek said, wiping the tears from Stiles’s wet cheeks, “Today is a day to celebrate. We’re finally together, and I’ve worked so hard to ensure we got here. I love you.”

“This isn’t love,” Stiles whispered, “This is...  _sick_.”

Derek gripped Stiles’s chin painfully.

“You will not speak ill of our love,” Derek said, “I don’t think you understand just everything I’ve done to get us here.”

Derek let go of Stiles’s chin. He walked a few steps away before turning back around.

“Killing your parents was necessary. I didn’t want to do it, but I knew that they would never let me have you the way that I knew I needed you,” Derek said, “I’ve known you were mine since I was eighteen. Do you remember June 17, 2011, baby?”

Stiles stared at the ground, not sure he could bear Derek’s confession.

“No?” Derek asked, walking back over to lift Stiles’s chin up.

“It was the day we first met, Stiles,” Derek said, “You bumped into me at Virginia Beach. You were a gift that literally fell into my lap.”

“You were so embarrassed,” Derek chuckled, “And god the way you blushed was beautiful – it still is.”

“And I knew, Stiles,” Derek said, face morphing into something more animalistic, “I could smell it – I could sense it. You were mine, and I was yours. You were that purpose I found nearly four years ago.”

Derek began to pace in front of Stiles.

“So I began to plan, I discovered your name first. Then where you lived, what school you went to, who your friends were. I looked for a way in, and I realized that you had everything you could ever want already,” Derek said, “There was no way you were going to want me, not when you had all that love already surrounding you. So I removed the love, Stiles. A year before your eighteenth birthday, when not even the law could keep us apart.”

“Your parents were only the first step in isolating you though. I knew it would take time to truly break you, so that’s what this year was all about. Guiding you to me. Until you knew that you needed me just as much as I need you,” Derek said.

“My uncle, Peter, played a critical role by helping to convince you that your memories of me that night were false.” Derek said, “And he did an excellent job. You didn’t even recognize me when I visited you at the hospital, ten days after I killed Claudia and John Stilinski. I owe him a great deal for overseeing your delivery to me.”

“Thank you, Alpha,” Peter said, head held high with pride.

“But – as instrumental as he was – I couldn’t have done it with simply Peter,” Derek said, “And that’s where my other pack members came into play. Melissa and Scott McCall volunteered to pose as your lost-but-found relatives.”

“Alpha,” Melissa nodded her head toward Derek. Scott displayed his neck toward the man, a wide grin spread across his face. Kira clapped her hands in excitement, as if she were cheering her boyfriend on for leading an athletic event to state, or winning a school debate.

Stiles felt entirely numb.

“Erica played a helping hand as well,” Derek said, gesturing toward the blonde, “Working to isolate you from your classmates from the first day you met – on the airplane. And of course, she ensured you made it to your birthday party.”

“My pleasure, Alpha,” Erica said, also displaying her neck to the man.

“My second in command was the final puzzle piece,” Derek said, as Jackson Whittemore stepped into the room.

Stiles felt like he was going to be sick all over again.

“Of course, that got a little out of hand, for which he would like to apologize,” Derek said.

Jackson sank to his knees in front of Stiles, and grasped Stiles’s hands.

“Alpha Mate, please forgive me, I was only trying to lead you to Alpha Derek,” Jackson said.

Bile rose in Stiles’s throat.

“You… You asked Jackson to attack me,” Stiles said.

“No!” Derek roared, eyes bleeding crimson.

Jackson visibly cringed.

“I never told him to attack you! Only to help you see that you were seeking a relationship with me. Not a dead end relationship with some high school chump,” Derek said.

Stiles looked at the unhealed gash on Jackson’s face.

“You did this,” Stiles said, touching the smooth skin before the gash, “You gave him this wound.”

“As a penance for hurting you, baby,” Derek said, “And I won’t allow it to heal until you’ve forgiven him, however long that takes.”

Stiles wanted to scream.

Jackson lurched away from Stiles as Derek lunged forward, grabbing ahold of Stiles.

“Baby, everything I’ve done – everything we’ve done – has been for you – for us, for our love, and for our pack,” Derek said, “We want you. We love you. You have a home here now, with us. And now that we have you, we’re going to all live here in Hale Manor together, as one big happy family.”

Stiles scoffed, bile giving way to a moment of bravery.

“If you think I’m going to willingly stay here with you, you’re much more than sick,” Stiles said, “You’re _fucking insane_.”

Derek chuckled darkly, and then he yanked Stiles’s head back by grasping a handful of his hair.

“Oh, baby,” Derek said, “In case you weren’t paying attention before, you didn’t decide to grow your hair out. I did. I’ve been controlling you long before you set foot on the airplane to move here. I don’t want to force you to do anything, but I will if you refuse to listen to reason and leave me no choice.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Stiles spotted the keys to Dr. Hale’s rental car sitting on the sideboard table near the doors leading into the foyer.

Stiles took a deep breath.

“Okay… _Alpha_?” Stiles said questioningly.

Derek’s face twisted from ugly, hardened, and animalistic into a beaming human face. Except for the eyes, which stayed bright red.

“Baby, I’ve waited so long to hear you call me Alpha,” Derek said.

“Alpha,” Stiles repeated, “I think I’m just a little overwhelmed by… everything you’ve done for me.”

Derek nodded in understanding.

Stiles cleared his throat.

“I’m actually really exhausted, some of our… _Activities_ tonight took a lot out of me,” Stiles said.

Stiles had to clamp down at the bile that rose in his throat when he referred to his _activities_ with Derek that night.

“It is late,” Derek said, nodding his head, “We should go to bed. We can talk about this more tomorrow over breakfast. Maybe after some rest, you’ll understand how much I’ve done for you.”

Derek rose and stretched his hand out to take Stiles’s hand.

“Actually,” Stiles said, “I was thinking Jackson might take me upstairs.”

Derek’s face immediately shifted into a scowl.

“I mean,” Stiles said, “I understand that you don’t want to leave me alone right now, and I want to speak to Jackson about his apology. So we can move forward toward forgiveness.”

“Okay…” Derek said, nodding his head, “Jackson, take Stiles up to my bedroom.”

“I’ll be up shortly,” Derek said as he leaned forward to kiss Stiles’s cheek.

***

 **Wednesday, March 8, 2015  
** _2:52AM_

“I truly am sorry, Alpha Mate,” Jackson said for what had to be the hundredth time since leading Stiles upstairs.

“I know, Jackson,” Stiles said, “I know.”

“Do you remember how we first bonded over music?” Stiles asked.

“Of course, Alpha Mate,” Jackson said, offering a shy smile while nodding his head.

“There’s a song I want to give you, that I think will help explain what I’m feeling right now better than I can vocalize myself,” Stiles said.

“What song, Alpha Mate?” Jackson asked, excitement evident on his face.

“Well, it’s on my mobile phone,” Stiles said, “But I left that downstairs at the party.”

“Oh,” Jackson said, face falling down in disappointment.

“I know, bummer,” Stiles said, “Unless of course you could go get it, so that we could listen together before I go to bed.”

Jackson’s face looked unconvinced.

“Please, Jackson?” Stiles asked, “It would mean a whole lot to me, I really want to share this with you.”

“And it would go a long way in winning my forgiveness,” Stiles said, twisting his mouth into a pout.

A look of uncertainty overcame Jackson’s face, he clearly wanted to appease both Derek and Stiles.

“Unless you want Derek to come up here and find me unhappy,” Stiles said, “You don’t want me to be unhappy, do you, Jackson?”

Jackson bit his lower lip.

“I’ll be right back, Alpha Mate,” Jackson said, “Please don't go anywhere.”

***

 **Wednesday, March 8, 2015  
** 3:01AM

Stiles climbed into the driver seat of Dr. Hale’s rental car just as Hale Manor seemed to shake from a violent roar within it.

Stiles had swiped Dr. Hale’s keys as Jackson led him from the sitting room, and once Stiles could no longer see Jackson from the landing of the stairwell, he got the fuck out of dodge.

“Stiles!” Derek yelled from the main entrance of Hale Manor, “Come back here!”

“Fuck you,” Stiles yelled as he pressed down on the accelerator.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t until Stiles had almost reached the large iron gate that separated Hale Manor from the main road that he realized the gate had been chain locked.

“Shit!” Stiles yelled, narrowly swerving the car left before hitting the gate.

Stiles looked out the driver’s window and saw both Derek and Jackson gaining on him.

Stiles looked around the property, realizing only one escape option remained.

Stiles pressed on the accelerator again, this time angling the car off the driveway and behind Hale Manor.

Stiles drove the car straight into the lake.

_I need you wild. Is this what we’re living for, to be known and a little more?_


	11. 11. Stay Awake, London Grammar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His mobile phone which sat on the nightstand – his nightstand, in his room in Hale Manor – that was sounding his first alarm of the day. One eye open, laid on his stomach, Stiles surveyed his surroundings and found that he was in fact in Hale Manor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fin.

 

 

 **Thursday, April 9, 2015  
** _7:05AM_

Stiles Stilinski woke slowly to the music playing from his mobile phone.

_I am the blank page before you, I am the fine idea you crave. I live and breathe under the moon, and when you cross that bridge, I’ll come find you._

His mobile phone which sat on the nightstand – _his_ nightstand, in _his_ room in Hale Manor – that was sounding his first alarm of the day.

One eye open, laid on his stomach, Stiles surveyed his surroundings and found that he was in fact in Hale Manor.

 _“Thank god,”_ Stiles thought, _“It was all a nightmare.”_

Stiles let loose a deep breath of relief. A deep breath cut short when two arms wrapped around his torso from behind.

“I’m so glad you’re awake, baby,” the voice of Derek Hale said, “You really had me worried.”

Derek turned Stiles over so that the two were facing each other.

Stiles's breathing became erratic, his heart skyrocketed.

“Calm down, baby. You’re going to give yourself a panic attack,” Derek said, “I think we need to relax you.”

“I think I know just how to relax you, too, baby,” Derek chuckled.

Stiles watched as Derek’s eyes turned a deep dark crimson. The same eyes that had watched him from outside the car the night his parents had died. The same eyes that belonged to the monster that killed his parents.

The monster that killed his parents because of an _infatuation_ with Stiles.

“You’re mine now, baby, and I’ve been waiting so patiently,” Derek said.

Derek pulled Stiles onto his chest, Stiles’s chin grasped firmly in his hand.

“Don’t you think I deserve a reward for waiting so patiently?” Derek asked.

Stiles remained silent, trying to focus his own breathing and grappling to understand what was happening around him.

Derek took Stiles’s mouth into a biting kiss.

Stiles had never been kissed with such hunger, so deeply – not even when Jackson Whittemore had attempted to force himself onto Stiles. It was engulfing. It completely swallowed him.

It was painful, both literally and metaphorically.

“You’re mine now, baby,” Derek said.

_Stay awake with me, you know I can’t just let you be._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The happy ending here is all in the perspective of which character your rooted for – and, well, sometimes crazy wins.
> 
> If you liked this work, let me know!


	12. Playlist Track Listing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case you were curious.

 

 

Stiles Stilinski's completed playlist for his move to Beacon Hills, CA:

  1. **Eleanor by Low Millions** (The Airplane)  
[iTunes](https://itunes.apple.com/us/album/eleanor-single/id724905199/) • [YouTube](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_kFyLIalh8o)
  2. **Ice Wine by Lia Ices** (Hale Manor)  
[iTunes](https://itunes.apple.com/us/album/grown-unknown/id538569060) • [YouTube](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MfrwEyyRsIY)
  3. **Heaven Knows by the Pretty Reckless** (The High School)  
[iTunes](https://itunes.apple.com/us/album/going-to-hell/id805841897) • [YouTube](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rHBxJCq99jA)
  4. **You're the Best by Wet** (The Counseling Session)  
[iTunes](https://itunes.apple.com/us/album/wet-ep/id867798914) • [Soundcloud](https://soundcloud.com/wet/youre-the-best) • [YouTube](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vfU71ZVqyMM)
  5. **Eyes On Fire (Zeds Dead Remix) by Blue Foundation** (The Forest Preserve)  
[iTunes](https://itunes.apple.com/us/album/eyes-on-fire-zeds-dead-remix/id445889916?i=445889923) • [Soundcloud](https://soundcloud.com/zedsdead/blue-foundation-eyes-on-fire-zeds-dead-remix) • [YouTube](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IUGzY-ihqWc)
  6. **Faded (Odesza Remix) by ZHU** (The Camaro)  
[iTunes](https://itunes.apple.com/us/album/faded-the-remixes-ep/id918556383) • [Soundcloud](https://soundcloud.com/odesza/zhu-faded-odesza-remix) • [YouTube](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SgO9yYlS9QY)
  7. **Honestly by Blue Sky Black Death** (The River Party)  
[iTunes](https://itunes.apple.com/us/album/slow-burning-lights/id295028586) • [YouTube](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7b8ztWb1RNQ)
  8. **The Love You're Given by Jack Garratt** (The Bedroom, Hale Manor)  
[iTunes](https://itunes.apple.com/us/album/the-love-youre-given-single/id948469096) • [Soundcloud](https://soundcloud.com/jackgarratt/the-love-youre-given) • [YouTube](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bOWWLytfmnU)
  9. **Is This Real? by Lisahall** (The Bedroom, Derek's Cabin)  
[iTunes](https://itunes.apple.com/us/album/practical-magic-music-from/id329936138) • [YouTube](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iHA5ywNKm54)
  10. **Grown Unknown by Lia Ices** (The Sitting Room, Hale Manor)  
[iTunes](https://itunes.apple.com/us/album/grown-unknown/id538569060) • [Soundcloud](https://soundcloud.com/jagjaguwar/grown-uknown) • [YouTube](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c1wYbXOmrfU)
  11. **Stay Awake by London Grammar** (The Bedroom, Hale Manor)  
[iTunes](https://itunes.apple.com/us/album/if-you-wait-deluxe-version/id841046915) • [YouTube](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BBYyCwjB_RA)




End file.
